The Other Kind of Suffering

Her name is Kerrie, the thirteen-year-old daughter of one of the women I work with in the office. Occasionally Kerrie volunteers after school at her mother’s side, stuffing envelopes, photocopying resource lists, and sorting brochures. She’s a shy little girl who spends a lot of time alone, reading, drawing, and doing puzzles.

There’s a deeper reason why Kerrie is so shy, so withdrawn.

Junior high hasn’t been easy for her. She’s the one who’s left out in the cafeteria. She’s the one who walks down the hall alone. She’s the target of the name-callers. She’s the one who’s had to brush dried food out of her hair—food thrown by hateful classmates.

I look at her, bewildered. I simply don’t understand. Kerrie is a kind, sensitive girl, a smattering of pale freckles across cheeks that apple-up when she smiles. She offers no retort to her tormentors, no resistance, no angry backbiting. I haven’t yet figured out why the boys and girls in her school treat her so spitefully. What makes it so cruel is the anguish this girl suffers. Deep pain and perplexity, smothered and suppressed, still shows in her eyes.

Does our Lord identify with that kind of suffering?

We all know Christ suffered. We immediately picture the crown of thorns the soldier ground into His scalp, or the nails thrust through His hands and feet. The cross, understandably, is synonymous with the suffering of Christ.

But sometimes it’s hard to identify with that kind of pain. Yes, He suffered unbearably during those dark hours but … that’s not the sort of suffering most of us have to face. Like my young friend Kerrie our suffering is often on the inside. Out of sight. Bloodless. Silent. Hidden from others.

We often suffer intense relational pain—the hurts, slights, rejections, and put-downs inflicted by others. No, it isn’t a scourging or a beating. There aren’t any literal nails or thorns. But it still hurts. Sometimes unbearably so.

Can we be certain our Lord identifies with that sort of non-spectacular, “everyday” pain?

Isaiah 53 must lay any such doubt to rest. In verse after verse the prophet paints a profoundly personal portrait of the Messiah. Within those lines—and often between the lines—we catch a glimpse of the everyday pain Jesus Christ endured as He walked on the earth.

Early in the chapter we learn that Jesus was not necessarily the most attractive guy on earth.

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering (vv. 2-3).

There was nothing about His looks that particularly drew people. He was just your everyday, ordinary-looking, Jewish young man.

There are plenty of plain Janes and John Does who can identify with Isaiah 53:2. I’ve had those days too—days when you look in the mirror and feel downright unattractive. Even ugly. But the Bible tells us we have a Savior who knows what that sort of rejection and loneliness is all about.

Verse 6 reveals even more.

We all, like sheep, have gone astray,

each of us has turned to his own way;

and the LORD has laid on him

the iniquity of us all.

Everybody turned away from Him. Alone, Jesus shouldered the burden of our sin and rebellion. Just as you have felt the stab of other people’s pity or the indifference of uncaring friends, Jesus, too, endured the sting of rebuff and the ache of loneliness. And it wasn’t an occasional thing from a few fairweather friends. He felt the awful realization that no one was on His side. No one bothered to listen or care.

Verse 11 speaks of the “suffering of his soul.” That has to be the worst kind of suffering possible … when you cry those deep, heaving sobs that come from way down inside. Real anguish you just can’t stop.

You know how that feels. So does He.

So if you’re experiencing relational pain today, battling with that ache that goes right through you, remember that your High Priest perfectly understands.

Yes, His suffering went far beyond what you and I will ever understand—all the way to the cross. But He also understands how it feels to be ignored, spurned, and devalued.

If you bring that pain to Him, He will never make light of it.

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